Into the War Zone
by forevershipper
Summary: Killian has just been deployed into the Iraq war. Emma is an English schoolteacher in the Iraqi city of Basra. Both end up falling for each other during the midst of war. Can their love survive in the battlefield?


Hey, guys! I'm back with a new story and tons of motivation to update the old ones, so be on the lookout. Enjoy!

Please remember: it takes hours to make, minutes to read, and seconds to review. Please review!

I do not own any of the characters mentioned.

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Chapter 1

0500 hours- 5:00 am

DAY 1

FWEEEEEEEEEET!

The sharp sound of a whistle pierced through the early morning hours forcing the cadets to jump out of bed. Heavy boots thudded against the floor prompting the men to stand up straight despite still being groggy.

"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauties!" Killian rubbed his eyes in an attempt to wake up and see better through the darkness. "Well, well, what do we have here?" All eyes turned to where the sergeant sneered down on a cadet, still asleep. _Poor chap._ FWEEEEEET! They all cringed as the whistle was blown centimeters away from the cadet's ears. His eyes instantly flew open and he scrambled to stand up. "One whistle will be blown at exactly 0500 hours every morning. I expect everyone to be fully dressed and in the cafeteria in five minutes." The room was quiet as the cadets stood expecting for the sergeant to say more. "What the fuck are you waiting for?!" he yelled. "Your five minutes started two minutes ago!"

Sergeant Leroy stood waiting as the new cadets rushed into the cafeteria all looking slightly disheveled and none in a perfect formation of six by six. Killian stumbled in right before the whistle was blown and knocking into a blond haired man in front of him. "Sorry mate," he grumbled when the man turned around. The man merely nodded and faced forward.

"Looks like we're missing a few," Leroy's voice boomed. A couple of stragglers snuck in behind Killian. "Nor are you in fuckin' formation!" This created a mad dash as the cadets tried to line up in six rows and columns all talking at once on who should go where. FWEEEEEET! He flinched. _Blast that goddamn whistle!_ "Not fast enough! As a penalty, you'll run a hundred laps on the field….before breakfast!" He opened the door to the outdoor track. "MOVE IT!" The cadets began to file out. Killian groaned. _What the bloody hell did I get myself into?_

 _-A couple of weeks ago-_

 _"_ _Killian!" Granny cried holding the letter he had given to her, "Accepted into Fort Jackson training camp!" He scratched the back of his ear grinning sheepishly at the elderly woman._

 _"_ _Aye, and it's the largest of all the basic training locations." The elderly woman enveloped him into a tight hug._

 _"_ _My Killian….going to be a soldier!" she cried. A head of brunette hair with streaks of red popped in through the door._

 _"_ _Who's going to be a soldier?" Granny opened her arms for the girl to join._

 _"_ _Killian is!" Ruby's eyes widened and she broke into a wide smile._

 _"_ _That's great Killy!" She rushed to embrace him. "Following in Liam's footsteps huh?" His grin faded into a soft smile as he untangled himself from the women and went to the shelf along the wall, picking up the larger of the three photographs. Killian's older brother and the last of his blood relatives, Liam Jones was all the family Killian needed. They stuck through thick and thin as they were hopped from one foster home to the next, until Granny with her granddaughter Ruby, took them in. He was never popular, always the outcast, the loner, but Liam always had his back. He was killed in battle about a year ago. As much as it pained Killian, Liam was very passionate about fighting for his country and died doing what he loved. Fingering Liam's Medal of Honor, Killian decided to enlist and go down fighting like his brother and avenging his death._

 _"_ _I'd follow you to the ends of the Earth, brother," he whispered to the photo, a vow he would frequently tell Liam and meant with every fiber of his being, even if it meant dying._

"Bloody hell," Killian moaned as he collapsed onto one of the the cafeteria seats, resting his head on the table. After running about half the amount of laps Leroy asked for, he was dismissed and sent back in for his breakfast.

"Pretty rough, huh?" Killian slowly tilted his head up to see the same blond man he had bumped into earlier grinning down on him. _What's he so damn happy about?_ He grunted in response. "Name's David Nolan," the man said sticking his hand out.

"Killian Jones," he replied and saw David still offering his hand, "Apologies, mate. I would shake your hand if everything didn't bloody hurt," he mumbled. David laughed and sat across from him, setting down the bowl in his hand, which Killian guessed was breakfast. "What's that?" He asked.

"Oatmeal," David replied, already shoving a spoonful into his mouth, "They practically serve it every morning...or so I've heard." Killian banged his head on the table and groaned. _Could today get any more worse?_ Because Gods above, he _hated_ oatmeal.

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Emma awoke to the sound of early morning _adhan_ filling the sky, coaxing the villagers awake for prayers. What she once found annoying and couldn't stand,had become one of her favorite things. She washed her face, grabbed a chunk of bread and some dates, and slipped out the door and up to the roof. The sky still dark as she positioned herself comfortably on the ledge and watched as the city came to life. One by one, lights flicked on in houses and markets began opening their doors, and Emma sat there until the sun started rising, coloring the sky. Brushing her hands free of any crumbs, she lept down from the edge and made her back to her apartment. The clock read 5:30 am, but her day had only just begun.

The sun blared down on her as Emma made her way to the schoolhouse. She picked up her _burka_ as she stepped over some trash and adjusted the bag on her shoulder. Today was the start of a new school year, and she couldn't wait to see the faces of the young, eager children ready to learn.

 _-2 Years Ago-_

 _"Emma, are you sure you want to do this?" Emma whipped her head toward her friend and snapped,_

 _"For the last time, yes," then a bit more softly, "and no." She sat down on the side of the bed and rubbed the palm of her hand against her forehead. "I just can't stay here anymore knowing that my son will be calling another woman 'mom.'" Mary Margaret wrapped an arm around Emma's shoulder._

 _"I know, but does it hurt so much that you have to leave so far away from here? From me?" Emma shrugged._

 _"Iraq isn't that far away. And you and I both know there are kids out there who need to learn English. I'm qualified, know enough of the language, so why not? And it beats sitting here all day blaming myself day after day when I could be doing something productive with my life." There was a brief moment of silence._

 _"Okay," Mary Margaret finally said. Emma raised an eyebrow._

 _"You're not going to argue with me?"_

 _"Would it do me any good?" Emma smiled wryly._

 _"No."_

Unlocking the door to her apartment, Emma unwrapped her hijab and pulled off her _burka_. She flopped on to her couch and took out her phone.

"Emma?" Emma smiled as she heard Mary Margaret's voice for the first time in weeks.

"Hey M."

"Oh Emma! I've been worried sick about you! How have you been? What's the weather like for you right now? Have you been eating right-"

"Hey, slow down M," Emma laughed. "It's been two years and you still haven't gotten used to me being here?" She suddenly sighed. "How.. How is he doing?"

"Emma..." She could hear the pleading in Mary Margaret's voice, "don't do this to yourself. Don't make me do this to you." Emma closed her eyes.

"I have to know. If I ever come back into his life, I need to know about him." She heard a sigh on the other side of the line.

"Henry's fine. He's going to be celebrating his third birthday in a couple of months."

"Thanks for checking up on him for me," Emma finally said. A couple minutes later she hung up. She curled herself up on the couch and screwed her eyes shut. She would miss another one of her son's birthday's, and it would be yet another one of hers she would spend alone.

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